At the End of the Path
by starrieyz342
Summary: She was overlooked and forgotten all her life, overshadowed by Aragorn, her brother. Now she has her chance to escape from under that shadow, joining a Brotherhood in pursuing and aiding the Fellowship, with no idea where her path is going to end.
1. Prologue

*Even though I wish I had come up with the Lord of the Rings and all the characters on my own, it's sadly not true. The fanfic is mine though.*  
  
Prologue  
  
When I first saw her, I thought that the Elves had come back to the earth. She had a deep-rooted wisdom about her, one that supposedly had not been sensed since the days of the old. Today, only the Hobbits, only we remember the stories of the way Middle-earth once was. Mainly because those last ones were stories of our glories, and of course, you can't have last stories without first stories. But we had all been taught these stories, and so, I knew of Elves, and she certainly seemed like one. I believe I was a mere toddler when I met her. I looked up at her in awe when I saw her. "Are you...are you an, Elf?!" I shrieked.  
  
Can you blame me? I was young and excitable! Of course, she being the ancient person she was, did not take heed to my enthusiasm and merely smiled serenely down at me, as if resolved not to be bothered by such a naïve and immature being. "No dear, not an Elf," she paused here "...but I knew many," and as her smile disappeared from her face she seemed to float away, her eyes got hazy. She seemed anxious to reminisce-I suppose she needed to remember. "Would you like to hear a story of Elves?" she said quietly, in the same peaceful tone, knowing my answer already.  
  
"Yes, yes!" I almost yelled, in hopes of hearing a long-forgotten tale. I had always loved to hear of Middle-earth's past, and I had never spoken with one so aged, from the past-not that she looked it. She looked as if she were thirty years of age, if not younger, but one could feel the age that she was enveloped by, as one could also tell by the tone of her voice, clear and thoughtful. And so she began... 


	2. Beginnings

*Thanks to shakespeare and CocoBeans for reviewing!*  
Chapter 1: Beginnings  
  
"Nobody ever knew of me, who I was...I doubt that even I knew for a long time. But I did know that I existed. Which was more than could be said for the rest of the world, except for those who met me. Nobody ever knew that Arathorn had a daughter. That Aragorn, a great King of Gondor whose name was heralded throughout the land, had a sister, the opposite of him-unknown to all. It's not as if my family strived to keep me hidden. It was just a result of what happened. My birth was never recorded in the archives. I was born only a week or so after Orcs in the wild killed my father. In the frenzy of my father's death, no one happened to think to record me anywhere, in the history of Gondor, where all royal children's' births were recorded. That was the start of my invisibility. I don't suppose anyone thought it would go as far as it did.  
  
Soon after my birth, my mother swept us off to Rivendell-Imladris; I suppose she could not bear to live in Gondor, as she found no comfort there. Rivendell would be the only home I would ever know. The move, though, only further hid me from the world. Almost all of the race of Men forgot my existence, as I was only a month old when we left their world.  
  
I grew up under the tutelage of Elrond and his sons. Elrond become something of a surrogate father for me-caring for me. For this reason, I was surprisingly not only taught the past of Middle-Earth and Elvish lore, but also taught to battle, when he felt I was old enough. We were all taken aback by Elrond's decision, even the Elves, but now, I realize that he knew of my heritage and he knew of the dangers that I might have to face as a child of the dead King of Gondor.  
  
So I learned archery and swordsmanship. I learned the uses of knives- besides for cookery, as my mother had taught me. I spent day after day with my brother, doing only these things. Honestly, when we began, I despised it. I did not want to be stuck, doing these things. When would I use these skills anyways? Then, one day, I outdid my brother at archery. That was when my interest in these skills was truly sparked. He had always been better than me, at everything. Everyone's favorite. That one day made it all worthwhile, I suppose. I became quite passionate about all the 'useless things' that I had once despised. Of course, as I grew older in Rivendell and had to battle invading Orcs, I realized the other uses of my skills, but the reason I even began to like battle was my brother.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
One day, when I was eighteen and my brother twenty, we went out into the wild with Elrond's sons and came upon Orcs, and had to slay them all. Because of this, Elrond decided we were old enough to know our lineage. He revealed to us our true names, Ariaet and Aragorn, as we had been called by our Elvish names, Meneluin and Estel, since entering Imladris. He explained to us our duties and our heritage and bestowed upon my brother the heirlooms of Gondor, while I watched on. He then beckoned me to leave them, as he wished to explain to my enthralled brother what he must do to claim the throne and to obtain the final heirloom-the Scepter of Anuminas. I suppose he noticed that I was rolling my eyes, sighing, and looking irritated every time he presented something to my brother.  
  
I suppose I should make a point to say that I did like my brother. I certainly did not hate him. But, I suppose that I was often quite jealous of him. He was known to the all, while I was forgotten. He would become King, and I would become naught. He was firstborn and a man, but I was born second-quite inferior, and a woman-even more inferior.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Either way, the next day, I decided to take a walk and clear my mind of my brother, my duties, and my newfound identity. I was out for quite a while; wandering paths bordered with tall trees, fast approaching autumn. Suddenly, I heard singing and decided, as I had no other destination, to walk towards it. When I had strolled to the place where the singing was coming from, I saw my brother, gazing with reverence at an Elf maiden that I surprisingly did not recognize. I listened intently to their conversation, obscured by trees and bushes. I learned that she was Arwen, Elrond's daughter, and saw, before my eyes, my brother fall in love. I grinned all the while; it was wonderful to see him at such a disadvantage. As a rule, he was the leader, and now, he was the puppy-eyed follower.  
  
I did not realize though, what this new relationship would imminently mean. Once Elrond understood Aragorn's feelings for his daughter, he was immediately troubled by them. Therefore, before long, he sought out my brother, and explained to him what it would take, for Aragorn to be not only worthy of Arwen, 'the noblest and fairest of all who walk the earth'- the Evenstar of her people, but also to be worthy of kingship over Gondor. Thus, Aragorn soon departed, seeking to fulfill his duty, so that he would be worthy-for both.  
  
When I first heard of Aragorn's leaving, I had mixed feelings. Regretfully, my first reaction was one of joy. I thought that perhaps now, I would get more recognition. Then as I thought more, I realized that Aragorn had been my only true companion in Imladris. All others were Elves and much older. They were more like benevolent grandparents than friends. After he left, I saw the effects of his actions upon those that I loved. My mother had a dark sorrow about her. Elrond seemed strained and anxious. It took me long to realize that I felt all of these. I then decided that in one year, I would follow, and try to find, Aragorn, into the wild. I convinced myself that neither my mother, nor Elrond would object-at least not as much as they had with Aragorn, and made up my mind.  
  
My last year at Imladris was a strange one. I made friends with, of all people, Arwen, after hurtling into her chambers, blaming her for taking Aragorn away. She became my only friend in Imladris-she treated me not like a child, as the others did. We spoke of many things, but most of all of Aragorn. When I was not with Arwen, I was devoting myself to battle. I worked hard on my swordsmanship as that was my weakest. I made many arrows and also practiced my archery. I don't think I could stand to be still. And before I knew it, I had left the safety of Imladris, and had begun on my own journey. 


	3. The Brotherhood and the Lady

Chapter 2: The Brotherhood and The Lady  
  
"I can't say how long I searched for Aragorn. The days, the weeks, the months, the years-they all seemed to melt into one another, but one day, I obtained useful information from an unknown person-or creature. A small one. Now that I look back, it could have very well been a Hobbit. I had not known of them then, and would not have known that it was a Hobbit-but now.....perhaps it was Bilbo, as he had left the Shire by then. Either way, he said to me, 'You seek the Heir. Go to the Elven Refuge. They are in need of you-and him,' they stated mysteriously. Of course, I took heed. I had no clues to follow, thus I was taking any help I could get, however strange it might be.  
  
I immediately thanked the cloaked figure for his kindness and turned Aurelius, my russet mare, around and galloped off towards Rivendell. When I arrived there, I immediately sought Elrond. I remember thinking how ironic it was that the place that I left in search for my brother might be the place I would find him.  
  
Once I found Elrond, I at once inquired about Aragorn. 'Where is he? I heard he was here,' I said, hurriedly.  
  
He didn't look surprised to see me. 'He just left, Meneluin. I understand you seek him, but you cannot follow him on this quest,' he told me, without explanation. As it happened though, Elrond only succeeded in further provoking me.  
  
'What is this quest, Elrond?' I further implored. He shook his head and sighed, as if knowing this could not end well.  
  
'He is aiding a Fellowship in destroying the One,' he said, somber. I stared at him. He could not be serious; the One Ring had long been hidden, forgotten. The elves had taught me that. But Elrond's words and the expression on his face could not be denied. I nodded numbly, realizing that refusing it would be of no use-that the Ring of Power had indeed been found, but still, I was determined to pursue my brother. I asked him how many were in the Fellowship, and he replied, 'Nine, nine are in the Fellowship, to be pitted against the Nine Black Riders.'  
  
I was aghast. 'Nine? Nine! Against all the forces of Mordor? Please, let me gather a group to pursue them, and aid them in their mission.'  
  
Of course, Elrond refused. 'No, Meneluin. You cannot, this is a dangerous task, appointed not to you. I have already organized a Brotherhood of nine elves, to pursue the Fellowship, secretly, you need not worry. Aragorn can fight for himself, and the Enemy will not get his hands on the ring as long as all the races of Middle Earth strive to protect it.' But I noticed that Elrond himself looked unsure, and expression not oft seen on his face.  
  
I refused to be left though, I was determined to follow my brother, and Elrond at last, after much begging and pleading and promising and conditions, relented, with a reluctant frown.  
  
I thanked my surrogate father, and quickly packed up my belongings, before he had a chance to think more and change his mind, and then decided to take a walk around the only home I ever knew, and take in the splendor that I had once taken for granted. While on my walk, I saw and spoke a bit with Arwen. From her I learned that my mother had gone to Eriador and none knew if she was still alive. I mourned that I would not see her, but had no time to travel there, for as it was, the Brotherhood and I would leave that evening in hopes of overtaking the Fellowship before too much time had passed. 


	4. Pursuing the Fellowship

Chapter 3: Pursuing the Fellowship  
  
"It did not take us long to catch up to the Fellowship, as we had expected. After all, we, were on tireless Elven horses, galloping at full speed, while they were on foot, with small hobbits, who, no offense meant, could not go quite as quickly as Men and Elves. We drew near them the next day, and once we had them in sight, we let our horses go. We knew that wherever our quest led us, it would be a place where horses would have neither the capability nor the desire to go; it would also be easier to follow the Fellowship without being detected. Although Elven horses are born more light-footed than normal, Elven footsteps are softer still, and while I was not quite as talented as the Elves, I had been brought up similarly, so that few would be able to detect me either, with the exception of Elves.  
  
And so we pursued the Fellowship secretly. It was an unspoken law of the Brotherhood. None of the Fellowship should know of our presence, perhaps for their own effort. No doubt, they would work as hard as they could, on their undertaking, if they truly believed they were alone in their effort.  
  
As we continued, I became close with the Brotherhood. Best with Ancalime, a 2,469-year-old elf. Although I was very close also, with the other eight- Alkarain, Wilwarin, Ayan, Eresse, Isilme, Oromandir, Tuliere, and Avath as well. As we walked through the wood, following the Fellowship, Oromandir- who lived and loved the woods-leading us, we discussed how we would aid the Fellowship, where they would go, what path they would take.  
  
They will go through the Gap of Rohan, insisted Avath.  
  
'Perhaps, but they will be stopped. No doubt Saruman expects it of them,' argued Eresse.  
  
'Once Saruman's spies discover where the Fellowship is, of which he no doubt will, we must always be a step ahead of them. We could not aid them much from behind, as we are now, except to carry their bloody bodies back to Rivendell. I agree with Eresse, we must get ahead,' claimed Alkarain. Avath looked displeased.  
  
And then, as if right on time, we saw the Crebain fly through the sky, and as I looked towards the distant Fellowship's camp, I thought I saw a fire go out and scampering figures. We were silent for a time. Tuliere quietly murmured, 'So they know. They will not now try the Gap of Rohan...where will they go?'" 


	5. Choosing Paths

*Thanks to Whizzothecrunchyfrog (lol) for reviewing*  
  
Chapter 4: Choosing Paths  
  
"The Brotherhood and I sat contemplating the Fellowship's course, and thus ours. 'Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?' Ancalime spoke quietly, reciting one of his favorite lines from an ancient song. We all smiled at the comfort of hearing well-known words, however mysterious.  
  
'There are only so many routes eastwards. They do not have many choices,' stated Ayan.  
  
'But they still do have options. Caradhras or Moria,' I realized.  
  
'Sauron and Saruman will want them to go through Moria. They have many Orcs there.' Wilwarin said, quietly, his voice full of foreboding. 'They will do anything to have them take that path.'  
  
'The Fellowship will take the path of Caradhras though. Both Gandalf and Aragorn know of the dangers of Moria. They will not go through the Mines unless they have no other choice,' Isilme shook his head.  
  
'And Sauron and Saruman will do everything in their power to divert their route-and they will succeed...' concluded Avath.  
  
'So we have no choice, as they do not. This is our chance to get ahead though. We go to the Mines of Moria,' affirmed Eresse. And we walked briskly away from our resting place, Oromandir quickly leading us through the wood at a fast pace so that I struggled to keep up, lagging behind, as nine specks in the distance walking towards Caradhras faded from sight, vanishing behind the trees. Before long, we heard a deep, dark, voice far in the distance, yet ringing in our ears, roar at Caradhras...and we hopelessly knew we had correctly chosen our path." 


	6. Moria

*Thanks to SUP for reviewing*  
Chapter 5: The Mines of Moria  
  
"We reached the Mines quickly, at the pace Oromandin set, we would have had to. We reached the West-gate on the eleventh of January-almost three days before the Fellowship. We lingered little at the gate, as Ayan knew the password, and met no adversaries till we entered the Mines. But the moment the heavy rock doors of the Mines of Moria opened and we entered, we were besieged continuously with Orcs and goblins. Did you never wonder how the Fellowship even arrived at Balin's Tomb without incident? We were able to slay many that would have otherwise overwhelmed the Fellowship upon entry, leaving them unable to guard Frodo and the Ring. We were not able to get far though. Although we had three days to fend off the Orcs, it was not enough. There seemed to be millions in the dark of Moria. We got only as far as Balin's Tomb before the Fellowship entered. We tried to continue slaying any Orcs that might be in the Fellowship's way, and still avoid being seen by the Fellowship, but to no avail. Thus, we were forced to quickly cross the Bridge of Khazad-dum to avoid being seen.  
  
'What shall we now do?' inquired Alkarain, once we exited the dark of the Mines. We knew we could not now aid the Fellowship, from where we were. There was no way.  
  
'We must either get ahead now, or wait for them to exit,' nodded Wilwarin.  
  
'We have naught more to do. Only hope,' sighed Tuliere.  
  
'But we must now, get ahead, must we not,' Avath stated the question as a sentence.  
  
'We must, but must we not also wait, just to be sure, that they have crossed the Bridge safely? Or else, will our journey to Lorien be for nothing, as the Ring would be lost?' insisted Tuliere. The elves were at odds. Interestingly enough, in all my years in Imaldris, I had never seen two elves quarrel. Why now? When no time could be wasted?  
  
We ultimately decided that we would stay and wait for the Fellowship. We could not risk anything going awry. When the Fellowship finally did exit, we noted their forlorn faces before we noticed anything else. We looked at one another from our hiding places with mystified looks. Suddenly, we realized. Only eight of the Fellowship had exited. One was still in the Mines, with all the Orcs. Who? As we scrutinized the small, cheerless, group, we understood. Gandalf, Mithrandir, the Grey Pilgrim, a friend to us all. Empty and lifeless?  
  
We decided that Avath and Eresse would return to the Mines to find Gandalf and aid him, if they could. We had realized, from the pieces of conversation we heard among the Fellowship, that he had only fallen. They had not seen him lose his life. There could be hope yet, although it did not seem likely. The rest of us continued despondently onwards, as the merciless truth sunk in. 


	7. Reflections in the Wood

Chapter 6: Reflections in Lorien  
  
We left Moria and journeyed onwards, towards the woods of Lothlorien, a realm of woodland Elves. I had never been to Lorien, but Ancalime and Ayan had, and Oromandin hailed from here. He spoke of it with great passion, but I could not grasp it. So there were trees, and houses. It did not seem spectacular. Either way, it could not possibly surpass Rivendell, my home. Little did I realize that if someone had asked me to describe Rivendell, I would not have been able to either. I suppose not even Elvish can describe the feeling and comfort of one's home adequately. We ran quickly among the great mallorn trees, shedding their golden leaves, perhaps for the last time that would be witnessed by elves, as the elves were leaving whether or not Sauron succeeded in his quest.  
  
As I ran onwards, I tried to clear my head, focusing on other things. As I drew myself out of my own thoughts and took notice of my surroundings, I took a second look at the falling leaves of the mallorn trees and felt an inexplicable sorrow, a bittersweetness. I looked at my companions, and suddenly saw them in a new light. For the first time, I realized that they were weary and tired. They did not seem it at first glance, as they were, after all, Elves, and often sang and danced and were merry, but life no longer held fascination for them. No emotion anymore, it seemed. They had felt all emotions before, numerous times. Life was no longer an experience for them. It was merely a formality, I suppose. They...my thoughts stopped dead in my mind as I noticed an arrow at my throat. 


	8. Entering Lothlorien

*Thanks to Jadaa_angel, Entwife, and kecharafaith4lyf, little-lost-one, and lulu bell for reviewing! Sry I haven't updated in so long-can you say writer's block? (plus I was lazy ^^)*  
  
Chapter 7: Entering Lothlorien  
  
As our group looked around, we realized that we were victims of the archers were woodland Elves. Oromandir stepped forward towards the leader of these Elves. 'Haldir...brother,'  
  
A mystified look swept through the Elf's eyes. '...brother? Why do you call me...' and Haldir trailed off. As Oromandir's face fell, recognition replaced the puzzled expression of Haldir's face. 'Brother! Ai! I never thought to see you again,' he cried joyfully. And then in a more serious tone, 'It has been long since we saw your face. You must forgive us for not welcoming you and your band, but odd things have been happening at our borders.' I took notice that the arrow at my throat had swiftly disappeared into an Elf's quiver.  
  
Oromandir nodded. 'I understand. These things, we know of. That is why we are here. Will you now take us to the Lady of the Wood?'  
  
'Yes, of course, but first, I apologize, but this woman is no Elf, nor anyone we know. No strangers are let into our realm now, unless we are sure they mean no harm. It is too dangerous in this day and age,' Haldir replied, gesturing at me.  
  
Oromandir concurred. 'Yes, it is logical. But you needn't worry. She is Ariaet. Daughter of Arathorn and Gilraen, sister to Aragorn. Second heir to the throne of Gondor.' I smiled wryly as I head this. Another who knew nothing of me. But another who knew all of my brother.  
  
Haldir looked taken aback. 'This is Meneluin?' and his gaze shifted from his brother to me. 'Ah, I see. We heard of you from Elrond and Aragorn. Welcome to Lothlorien, Meneluin. The heart of Elvendom in Middle-earth,' he declared, with a small, proud smile.  
  
I looked up, startled. So I wasn't utterly unknown. He knew of me. Elrond and Aragorn had spoken of me?  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Haldir and the other Elves led us quickly through the dense forest at a dizzying pace. I would never have been able to find my own way. And suddenly, we stepped out from a thick brush of trees, and found shining structures, built around trees. I looked in awe at the bright, sweeping constructions. As I stared, I understood some of Oromandir's passion, but of course, Rivendell was still unparalleled. We were led up a steep, spiral staircase, wrapped around a tree. It seemed to be neverending, but soon we came up to a platform held up by the branches of a huge mallorn tree, and we faced a beautiful, intricate gate, it seemed. This 'gate' seemed iron- wrought, but knowing the Elves, it was most likely made of a more subtle, delicate, and resilient material.  
  
The Lady of Light descended through the threshold of this gate with the greatest of ease. Much like she did in the widely known stories of the Fellowship. 


	9. The Lady of Light

Chapter 8: The Lady of Light  
  
I stared. It was inevitable. It was not simply that she was beautiful. She was beautiful; there was no doubt of that. But there was something more than beauty that emanated from her, that made her so much more fabled than the Evenstar or Lúthien Tinúviel. Under her beauty, she was power and potency. She was kindness and cruelty.  
  
I snapped out of my reverie when her eyes locked with mine. I suddenly became very aware. Aware that everyone else had bowed their heads with reverence. That it was suddenly very quiet. As she held my gaze, I felt her leisurely going through all my feelings, all my memories. And I tore my eyes away.  
  
'The Brotherhood,' her treacherous eyes drifted over my companions, 'and the Lady.' Needless to say, I kept my eyes trained on my feet. 'Welcome to Caras Galdhon. You must be weary. Lothlórien bids you stay here, for as long as you wish.' She turned around, with Celeborn, and walked away as easily as she had walked forth. That was all she did. From the stories I have heard of the Fellowship, I am aware that Galadriel spoke much more with them then she did with us. I have long wondered why. After much thought on the matter, I realized that she did not need to give the Brotherhood guidance. The Brotherhood did not contain a Hobbit that held the fate of the world around his neck. It did not have three Hobbits who knew nothing of the world outside the Shire. The Brotherhood did not hold two Men who could destroy Middle-Earth, depending upon their resistance and determination. The only thing the Brotherhood had to worry about was me.  
  
I noticed that all the Woodland Elves had left leaving only the Brotherhood, Haldir, and me. We descended down the same steep staircase that we had gone up and were lead away farther into the forest, to a similar house built among the high branches of the trees, with rooms where I judged that we would sleep. I immediately pounced on the closest bed and slept heavily. I had not slept since the night before we entered the Mines. None of the Brotherhood though, it seemed, was tired, for when I awakened, none were in the beds set out for us. I know not how long I slept, for as I stepped outside, onto a platform supported by two sturdy branches, I realized that the canopy above the wood was so thick, no sunlight seemed to penetrate, stopping me from seeing what time it was.  
  
As I studied the thick leaves above, I noticed a pain, and laughed. Of course, I was hungry. How could I not be? The last time I had eaten was the last time I had slept-that is, before entering Lothlórien. My mouth was parched as well. I descended down the stairs as swiftly as I dared and walked briskly upon the soft ground, in search of a stream. The wood, and the Lady that commands it, has a funny way of working though. It led me straight to her, although I did not know it. I simply thought I was walking aimlessly. But on this walk with no direction, I chanced to stroll by a bench, suspiciously in the middle of nowhere. Or so it seemed. And on it, who else would be sitting, but the Lady of Light.  
  
I had no idea what to do. To walk by, and not acknowledge her, for fear of disrupting her, or to stop and give her my thanks for allowing me to stay in Caras Galdhon? As it happened, I did not have to make a choice, for she called me to her. I walked apprehensively towards the bench, not forgetting what happened the last time she looked into my eyes.  
  
She looked into them again. This time, I didn't feel her rifling through my emotions. I knew that she had gotten all she needed. 'Meneluin,' she began, and I felt a distinct feeling of apprehension. 'Why are you here?' Ah, there it was. That tough question. One of those introspective ones that you didn't want to know the answer to. That question that the smartest person asked, because you would be to bewildered in considering your answer to shoot one back at one. Not that I could have, in Galadriel's case. I knew nothing about her.  
  
'...because...I was sent?' I mumbled questioningly.  
  
'But you were not. You asked to come on this quest, did you not?' Of course she knew that, I thought with irony.  
  
I bobbed my head slightly. Thinking about what she wanted to hear. Of course, that is never the right way to go about answering questions like these. When I looked back up at the Lady, she looked as placid as always, with a tinge of impatience. I had irritated the Lady of Light! Ugh, I was truly pathetic. Aragorn would never have done this. I think that Galdriel finally was tired of my bumbling. 'Think on it, Meneluin,' she replied as elegantly as ever, and seemed anxious to get away as she quickly stood up in one flowing movement and quietly walked away, leaving me utterly bewildered.  
  
*Sooo...whatcha think? Tell me! With a lil click and a few keystrokes! Plz?* 


	10. Happenings

*Thanks to Hellga for reviewing! Sorry for the long wait! I've had a severe case of writer's block. Oh, and in reply to Hellga's review, she's right. I'm not very accurate-I haven't even read The Silmarillion, but I'm doing the best I can, so please, bear with me!*  
  
Chapter 9: Happenings  
  
So I was left there, with my muddled thoughts. It was quite infuriating. Perhaps it would have been easier if Galadriel hadn't been so kind about it. Either way, I decided to forget her comments and questions, at least for a while-although I should have known better. Instead, I resolved to try and find my companions, I needed some distraction and Ayan was always the best for that. Being the eldest of the Brotherhood, the lore and tales that he had learned was immense, and he never tired of doling out stories to those of us who had not heard them before, whom hung upon his every word. This was what I went in search of, however, I'm sure that you've guessed, that this was not what I found. Somehow, I stumbled upon the heart of Caras Galdhon. Actually, I most likely did not "stumble" upon it; I was most likely guided there, as I suppose the Brotherhood was. I saw the group of Elves closely knitted together, on their knees, bent over something. Cautiously, I approached my friends and tapped Ancalime on the shoulder. He did not turn round for so long, that I thought he hadn't felt me, and was about to try again, when his ashen face met mine. It was only then that I saw Avath.  
  
So Avath and Eresse were finally back...what a relief. Had they brought Gandalf back as well? Then it struck me. I stepped out of my thoughts and landed hard on the face of reality. Ancalime had looked near death with terror and worry when he had turned towards me. What could this mean? Gandalf...he could not be...I pushed my way through the Elves, who were apparently to limp with sorrow to do anything to stop me. What on earth could this mean? I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out when I saw. So much blood, and a scent of charred flesh hung in the air.what was this? I peered at what could be distinguished of the battered face with a kind of distorted curiosity, and almost sighed with relief. It was not Gandalf. My sigh never had a chance to escape though. I looked at the face once more. It was Eresse that was dead. 


	11. Disgraced

Chapter 10: Disgraced  
  
I gaped. I shook. My knees almost gave way to the grassy ground of Lothlórien. I had only heard of the death of Elves once or twice in hushed, forbidden, distraught tones, much less seen a real, truly dead Elf. Of the few Elves that had died since the war that pitted the Last Alliance against Sauron, one of them had to be Eresse. I had known him. So many Elves, and this had to be the one to die. I had befriended him. He had liked solitude most of all, but he was gracious, kind, and compassionate, always. Why must it have been him? Why? I caught myself guiltily wishing it had been Avath who fell.  
  
When I was growing up it had seemed impossible for Elves to die. To this day I have yet to understand exactly why we have this predisposition. I only know that in the mind of a child that perhaps has the most sense and logic of all competent minds, it had seemed that Elves could never die. Neither blade, nor arrow, nor disease seemed able to strike them down. Well now here lay a truly dead Elf, right in front of me. And it still seemed impossible. It could not possibly be Eresse, who still looked in his prime, if one was able to disregard the crimson and black scars of fire all on his body. It had been easier to believe that Gandalf was dead, a noble, friendly, caring companion of course, whose death would cause sorrow throughout the land, but looking much closer to death in the body of an old man than Eresse in the skin of a glowing, peaceful young man. He had seemed immortal. They all did. But they were not.  
  
Following fast on the heels of my shock was fury. At Avath, at Gandalf. How could they let this happen? How? All right, it was understandable that Gandalf could have been much battered, leading the Fellowship, battling Orcs, and of course from that long fall off the Bridge of Khazad-dum, but what of Avath? How did Eresse die in battle against the Balrog and Avath escape unscathed? Where was he? I felt the need to leap on him and simply start battering.  
  
Ancalime must have seen me looking frantically around with a wild and frenzied look in my eyes. He walked quickly to my side, and clasped my hand. I looked up at him surprised, and clutched his hand, as I stopped hysterically turning my head every which way and only stared serenely at our companion's limp body. It was disconcerting to see an Elf so disgraced, sprawled on the grass, reeking like charred flesh, as all gawked, however sympathetically, me included. 


	12. Author's Note

Author's Note:  
  
Sorry guys, but I'm not going to be able to update for a while. I'm working on a chapter, but I'm really busy, so it'll probably be a while before it's up, but keep checking! And comment please! 


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